The Best Victories Are the Ones You Fight For
by mandaree1
Summary: Ice Bear's favorite childhood story includes shoelaces, a storm, the box, and wet fur. Some of the best stories are the ones that are never told.


**Disclaimer: I don't own We Bare Bears!**

 **Title: The Best Victories Are Fought For**

 **Summary: Ice Bear's favorite childhood story includes shoelaces, a storm, the box, and wet fur. Some of the best stories are the ones that are never told.**

 **...**

Ice Bear could tell you many stories, but his personal favorite would be the time he saved his brothers from the cold.

Well, he didn't _save_ them from the cold. Every breeze that blows by could easily send them rushing to the house, fur bristling. But he tried, once, a long time ago.

The story goes as follows.

His brothers lie, shivering, in their box. Ice Bear listens as the rain pours down just outside; an umbrella is taped down so it hangs over them- their home is merely damp. Ice Bear, his pelt built for cold, hardly notices the chill.

Perhaps it would be wise to step back a moment. Ice Bear wasn't truly 'Ice Bear' in those days. Ice Bear has only recently come to flourish in the idea of verbally expressing himself. In those times, talking seemed like a bother, something that one did to fill in spaces of time.

Ice Bear no longer thinks that way. He enjoys being able to tell his siblings things personally.

The topic has shifted. Ice Bear is sorry.

He was brother, as a cub. He was lil' bro, as a cub. He wasn't Ice Bear. He appreciates that his brothers didn't try and force a name onto him, but his soul will always respond to the name Ice Bear over all else.

Winter is coming, and he silently immerses himself in the idea. As an Ice Bear, he likes the snow. (Grizz had once given him the nickname of Po-Po, for polar bear, so he no longer considers himself a polar bear. Too close to Pan-Pan, or police.)

Panda sneezes, and he reminds himself that such luxuries cannot be his. His brothers are small and fragile; they aren't yet old enough to handle lots of snow and cold.

They could get sick, he realizes. They could get buried, he dreads.

Ice Bear lifts his head from his paws, eyes blurry with sleep. They have yet to invent the sleep stack, although now he wonders if it would've kept them warm throughout the winter.

Grizz lets out a snore. Ice Bear's ears flatten; nothing about his older brother is quiet, and sometimes that gets on his nerves. Panda stretches, yawns, and rolls over, shivering. His limbs bunch in an effort to keep warm.

He sets a paw on his brother's shoulder. He doesn't stir. Ice Bear's brow furrows.

Sighing to himself, he pokes his head out of the box, squinting to see through the downpour. The alleyway is dingy and dirty; the street clear.

Ice Bear steels himself and climbs out of the safety of their box. He shudders. Getting wet isn't much fun when you have to wait for the sun to dry you.

A homeless man is crouched in an open crate, shifting uncomfortably. He has thick boots, with equally thick laces.

"What's up?"

Ice Bear points at his feet.

The homeless man makes a face. "You want my shoes?"

He shakes his head- no smart man would toss aside such good boots in this weather- and fingers the laces with a claw before letting it go. He doesn't want to act intimidating; he can do it without them, if he has too.

"You want my shoe _laces_?"

Ice Bear nods.

He hesitates. "Got any food?"

Ice Bear jogs across the street to the back of the restaurant whose dumpster they'd been mooching out of. The head chef seemed to like how picky he was about how he ate his food and how it looked; he'd stated more than once that he saw a talent in him. The man hardly notices when he shakes his fur out and grabs a streak from the back. Not one of the fancy ones; a thin one, only used when the fancy ones are gone.

Tucking himself forward, he shields the food with his body as he jogs back across, ignoring his rumbling belly. It's not hunger; it's merely digestion. He had stale pizza for dinner.

The homeless man seems surprised as he handed the meat over. "Hey, thanks, man. Take 'em."

Ice Bear pulls the laces out and bids him a silent farewell. Poking holes in the box feels like he's poking holes in his heart- they all have a soft spot for their box- but he ties a knot in the laces and anchors them to the box without preamble.

Gripping the bend of the lace in his teeth, he gives an experimental tug. His brothers are heavier than he remembers. Maybe that's just the box itself.

His paws brush the wet ground outside their little sanctuary. He glances at the flimsy cardboard of their box and spits out the reins. Standing up on two paws, Ice Bear begins to scavenge the alleyway, eventually coming up with a piece of aluminum siding. He brings it to safety and wipes it dry with his arm fur.

Pushing and pulling, he secures the box onto the metal, then lashes it with the other shoelace. Satisfied, Ice Bear grabs the string in his teeth and mushes.

His paws turn brown and gray from mud puddles, and his belly fur is suspiciously heavier than it was earlier, but he doesn't look back. It's best to look forward.

At least, that's what Grizz always says.

Ice Bear crosses streets and sloshes through mud. There's no real destination in mind quite yet; he needs to get them out of this cesspool first.

A breeze blows, knocking the umbrella aside. Ice bear whips around, jumps, and saves his brothers from the brunt of the downpour. A water droplet falls and hits Panda's nose. It wrinkles.

Silently grunting his displeasure, Ice Bear readjusts the umbrella and slides back onto the sidewalk.

He has a long walk ahead of him.

The familiar heat of rising steam slowly brings Ice Bear to the present. It's early and he's yet to have his tea. He hasn't even had coffee.

He adjusts the temperature and takes a satisfied look around his kitchen. The box had been theirs. The house was theirs. The kitchen was his.

People say life on the streets is hard. Ice Bear feels incredibly content with his past, and all it contains. A few bad days in the rain was more than worth it to be where he is. He'd do it all over again if he had to.

Ice Bear eyes Chloe, sleeping peacefully next to his brother's. She was so small; like a cub. He wondered if, someday, she would find a permanent seat on top of their stack.

That was Ice Bear's favorite story from saving his family _before_. Their family was much bigger, now.

Maybe, someday, he'd have an even better story.

* * *

Ice Bear struggled to open his eyes and lift his head. He aches all over.

The box is flipped on its side, drying in the sunlight. The siding and umbrella are nowhere to be seen, and the shoelaces have been disposed of. Ice Bear's back is warm, but his belly is wet. He rolls onto his back.

A breeze blew, ruffling the chilled fur, but it's not a cold wind. They're in farm country, and he can easily smell things like growing wheat and cows.

Ice Bear doesn't remember how long or how far he trudged. A few days, he suspects, at the very least, and distance is relative, so long as you head for the right places.

Ice Bear rolls over, ignoring the squish of wet fur on grass. He's already covered in mud and dust; a little more won't hurt. He begins to brush himself clean at that thought.

Weariness gnawed at his bones, but his brothers are gone. He can't sleep while he doesn't know where they are. Out finding food, most likely, but he won't feel better until he hears it come from their mouths.

"Brother!"

Or from Grizz's paws, as he clamps them around his neck. Ice Bear lets out a near silent 'oomph.'

"Look what I found!"

He cups his paws so whatever his brother is handing over doesn't become dirty by hitting the ground. Nuts spill into them.

Breakfast.

Panda comes from the other side, sheepishly holding a branch. "I got us some leaves."

"Awesome. We can- probably- eat those. Or maybe even make a fire!"

Not next to their box, they can't. Ice Bear draws them a circle a few feet away.

Grizz laughs. "Okay, dude. Got it."

Ice Bear calmly splits the nuts into three piles in his paw. Grizz waves them off.

"It's for you, bro. You got us to this crazy great place, after all. We'll have a go at the leaves Pan-Pan brought us."

It's not really a prize, but Ice Bear feels honored anyway as he eats them. He stands, stretches, and crawls into the box to take a nap, the flap shading him from the sun.

He leaves two nuts just outside, waiting to be munched on.

 **Author's Note: First We Bare Bears 'fic! As always, my first attempt it the roughest. =)**

 **An idea I've had in mind for awhile now. Baby Ice Bear protecting his older brothers is the best.**

 **-Mandaree1**


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